


Lock and Key

by PeachyKeen_WithCream



Category: X-Men (Original Timeline Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst and Fluff, Cunnilingus, Drabble, F/F, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:31:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8538466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyKeen_WithCream/pseuds/PeachyKeen_WithCream
Summary: The five times Emma managed to lock away the bad. Plus the once she couldn't.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own 'X-Men' nor am I profiting off this.

Emma sighs, breath tickling the cavernous edges of memories. The press of her nails, manicured and shiny is harder, more insistent.

The shield whines and splits down the middle.

Jean scowls, a thin, cottony veil of defense.

“You need to improve these shields, sugar,” Emma says, but backs off, “Or learn to deal with these memories.”

The press of her nails is soft, a tickling scratch as she smooths the crack.

“Easy,” She sighs, voice hoarse, “Could you close it enough to let me sleep?”

The clack of her heels echoes as she retreats.

“We have to face the memories.”

-

Emma wears her arrogance like other women wear perfume. Her heels clack noisily against the wood, a pissy stomping to announce her arrival. Jean watches the blurry scattering of students through migraine lidded eyes, pressing her hands harder against her temples.

“I hope this is important,” she huffs, scuffing the wood with her heel, “I left a recruiting meeting because your cries were so loud.”

“The migraine is back.”

“Stop being moral and lower your shields.”

Jean glares, but lowers her shields, gritting her teeth against the sudden flooding of thoughts from the students.

“I understand it’s impossible, but relax.”

-

The hotel bedroom is draped entirely in white from the plush carpet to the wrapped chocolates placed on their pillows. Jean’s eyebrows raise towards her hairline, chocolate held between her fingers as she looks expectantly towards Emma.

“I am not so petty as to try and poison you with chocolates.” Emma smiles. “Besides, I pulled a ridiculous amount of strings to have an all white bedroom.”

Jean rolls her eyes, dropping the chocolate back onto the pillow. Emma plucks her robe from its peg, already fiddling with the buttons of her shirt.

“The bath is open, care to join me?”

-

Jean grits her teeth, nails digging into the bare skin of her thighs. Emma has strict rules whenever it comes to her hair and grabbing which means digging into her skin, and shoving fingers into her mouth.

“I am supposed to be on watch,” Jean hisses, glancing around the room, “Do you mind?”

Emma pulls away, mouth and chin shiny with a strand of hair clinging stubbornly beneath her lower lip.

“Spare me the excuses,” she sighs, sliding a finger through the slick, “You were completely incapable of focusing, sugar.”

Jean scowls down at the head of platinum blonde hair.

-

Emma sits in her diamond form, stony faced and ramrod straight. Jean stares at a spot over her shoulder and listens to the quiet chiming sound of her shifting.

“I’d never try reading your mind without permission.” She says, plucking at a piece of invisible lint.

Emma inclines her chin, though she stays in her diamond form.

“I’ve decided to expand the Hellfire Club which means my leadership will be required constantly this month.” The tapping stops in exchange for a twitch near her mouth. “Shall I meet you on the battlefield?”

Jean kisses the corner of her diamond mouth.

-

The infirmary smells of cheap latex and disinfectant. Emma’s nose curls at the stench as she yanks on a pair of gloves. The latex echoes against the skin of her wrist with a satisfying thwack. Jean’s skin is cool and tacky beneath the gloves. Her body lays stiff save for the steady rise and fall of her chest.

“I fear this won’t be simple as a fairy tale,” Emma mumbles, rubbing a piece of hair between her fingers, “Besides, you never liked fairy tales.”

Emma drops the piece of hair, leaning down, and kissing the corner of her still mouth.


End file.
